


The Mystery of the Stretched Shirts

by Nimz



Category: GOT7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6390952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimz/pseuds/Nimz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yugyeom's never been great at laundry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mystery of the Stretched Shirts

**Author's Note:**

> For Noona who gave me this idea.
> 
> My stories seem to be on the shorter side. I'll make them longer in the future.

Mark didn't look up as Yugyeom walked slowly into the living room toward where he was seated on the floor with his laptop, not noticing the younger one practically chewing off his lip with nerves before he spoke. “Hey, Mark...?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't kill me, but... I think I did the laundry wrong.”

Mark finally glanced up at him, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean, 'did the laundry wrong'? Did you put a red sock in the whites again?” JB had had to throw away one of his favorite shirts due to that incident and hadn't let the youngest member live it down yet.

Yugyeom shook his head. “No, no. I learned that lesson.” He subconsciously rubbed his arm where their leader had hit him. “Its just, your shirts kind of... well, they...” He fumbled with his words, fingers playing with the hem of his sweater as he tried to sort out what to say.

Mark's face went blank and he stared at the younger one for a minute. “What did you do to my shirts, Yugyeom?”

The younger one seemed to accept his fate and he moved over to the side, pointing to where his room was. “Go see for yourself.”

Mark put his laptop on the sofa and got up, heading to Yugyeom's bedroom with the other one trailing behind him. On Yugyeom's bed were three of Mark's shirts, but something was definitely wrong. Mark didn't remember buying them _that_ big. “Oh my God, how did you manage to _stretch_ them?!”

Yugyeom let out a little whine and clung to the older one's arm. “I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I'll buy you new shirts! Any price, doesn't matter, I-... Why are you laughing?!”

Mark was nearly doubled over laughing, one hand on the wall to hold himself up and the other one clutching his stomach. He finally righted himself, letting out another laugh as he wiped a tear away from his eye. “I think this is the hardest you've ever made me laugh.”

Yugyeom took a step back from him like Mark had gone mental, eying him curiously. “You're not mad?”

“Of course I'm not mad! That's the funniest thing that's happened all month.” He walked over to the bed, picking up one of the stretched shirts and held it up. “I like it, actually. Looks better than when I bought it.”

Yugyeom was just staring at him, mouth agape. “So you're not mad?”

“I already said I wasn't.” Mark folded up the shirts and picked up his pile in one arm, using the other to pat the confused kid on the shoulder as he walked past him on the way out. “Good job today.”

Yugyeom waited until he was out of the room before he concluded that Mark had really gone mental and to stay on his good side for a while.

 


End file.
